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- Фрэнсис Скотт Фицджеральд
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- Великий Гэтсби
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- Стр. 21/165
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"
It
's
a
bitch
,
"
said
Tom
decisively
.
"
Here
's
your
money
.
Go
and
buy
ten
more
dogs
with
it
.
"
We
drove
over
to
Fifth
Avenue
,
so
warm
and
soft
,
almost
pastoral
,
on
the
summer
Sunday
afternoon
that
I
would
n't
have
been
surprised
to
see
a
great
flock
of
white
sheep
turn
the
corner
.
"
Hold
on
,
"
I
said
,
"
I
have
to
leave
you
here
.
"
"
No
,
you
do
n't
,
"
interposed
Tom
quickly
.
"
Myrtle
'll
be
hurt
if
you
do
n't
come
up
to
the
apartment
.
Wo
n't
you
,
Myrtle
?
"
"
Come
on
,
"
she
urged
.
"
I
'll
telephone
my
sister
Catherine
.
She
's
said
to
be
very
beautiful
by
people
who
ought
to
know
.
"
"
Well
,
I
'd
like
to
,
but
--
"
We
went
on
,
cutting
back
again
over
the
Park
toward
the
West
Hundreds
.
At
158th
Street
the
cab
stopped
at
one
slice
in
a
long
white
cake
of
apartment-houses
.
Throwing
a
regal
homecoming
glance
around
the
neighborhood
,
Mrs.
Wilson
gathered
up
her
dog
and
her
other
purchases
,
and
went
haughtily
in
.
"
I
'm
going
to
have
the
McKees
come
up
,
"
she
announced
as
we
rose
in
the
elevator
.
"
And
,
of
course
,
I
got
to
call
up
my
sister
,
too
.
"
The
apartment
was
on
the
top
floor
--
a
small
living-room
,
a
small
dining-room
,
a
small
bedroom
,
and
a
bath
.
The
living-room
was
crowded
to
the
doors
with
a
set
of
tapestried
furniture
entirely
too
large
for
it
,
so
that
to
move
about
was
to
stumble
continually
over
scenes
of
ladies
swinging
in
the
gardens
of
Versailles
.
The
only
picture
was
an
over-enlarged
photograph
,
apparently
a
hen
sitting
on
a
blurred
rock
.
